


Catalyst

by kooili



Series: SlowBern [5]
Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F, Jealousy, countdown:scar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-22 01:08:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22340263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kooili/pseuds/kooili
Summary: The tables have turned and Serena isn’t enjoying it at all. Continues from Entropy.
Relationships: Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe
Series: SlowBern [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1605892
Comments: 8
Kudos: 76
Collections: The Final Countdown





	Catalyst

Bernie stuck her head through the open office door. “I’ll be back in an hour if you’re looking for me.”

“Off for a run?” Serena asked, her head bent over the folder she was reading. 

“Not today. I’m going out for lunch,” Bernie answered. 

Serena looked up and saw that Bernie had changed out of her uniform of blue scrubs into a linen shirt and jeans. Her hair, usually a mop of messy curls, was tamed and tucked neatly behind her ears. She watched appreciatively at the way the skin-hugging denim accentuated the length of Bernie’s legs as she collected her coat and busied herself pulling it on. Serena pulled her eyes away when Bernie finally turned back towards her. “Right, I’m off. Don’t want to be late,” she said with a wave before striding quickly out of the office.

“Enjoy,” Serena said, finding herself speaking to thin air as Bernie was already halfway across the ward. 

She turned back to her work but couldn’t help wondering what Bernie could be late for. 

Or who.

* * *

“No, I haven’t forgotten,” Bernie said, keeping her voice low, mindful that she wasn’t alone in the office. 

Serena kept her eyes politely glued to her screen but ears pricked otherwise. She wasn’t above eavesdropping. Well, not when Bernie’s been skulking about with a secret for the past week. Lunch hours were no longer spent pounding the pavement but with appointments and meetings. 

A soft chuckle from across the desk made her risk a furtive glance in Bernie’s direction. The chair was swung halfway round and Serena took the opportunity to look a little longer. Whatever was being said was making Bernie smile broadly, cheeks pinking with amusement. 

Her curiosity piqued, Serena shifted her chair forward, straining to catch a snippet of the conversation. 

“A little sore,” Bernie said, rubbing what looked like a new scratch on her forearm, “but it was more than worth it.” 

Worth what? Serena’s imagination was starting to reel. 

“Yes, I promise. Okay, see you soon.”

Bernie turned her chair round as she ended the call and caught Serena hurriedly looking away. “Did you need me for something?” she asked, stretching and standing up.

“No,” Serena answered calmly even though her heart was pounding from nearly being caught. “I was just thinking of getting lunch. Shall I get you a sandwich?”

“I’m going out for lunch,” Bernie shook her head. “Thanks for the offer.”

Serena managed the smallest of smiles in reply which disappeared the moment Bernie left the room. A long forgotten feeling formed a knot in her stomach and all thoughts of food were abandoned instantly. It’d been a while since anyone had managed to unearth the green-eyed monster - the misfortune that was Edward had taught her to build what she thought was an impenetrable scar over that particular wound.

Until now.

* * *

“Is it safe to join you? 

Serena paused, glass halfway to her lips, and turned towards Fleur who had appeared next to her with a large drink in hand. “Depends on how dangerously you like to live,” she replied flatly. 

Fleur pushed herself up onto the bar stool next to Serena. “I’m beginning to believe what they’re saying about you.”

“Oh, and what is that?”

Anyone else would have demurred and changed the topic at the sharp edge of Serena’s voice but Fleur more than held her own against Serena Campbell and lived for moments like this. 

“Keep still, don’t breathe and she won’t see you,” she said with a cackle. 

Serena tried to look annoyed but gave up half-way. “Man-eating dinosaur eh? I’ve been called worse.”

“I would have thought ‘woman’ would be more appropriate these days,” Fleur replied immediately, her voice thick with innuendo. “Nothing kills a bad mood better than sex.”

Serena rolled her eyes. “Not every problem can be solved with a shag, Fanshawe.”

Not that she wouldn’t jump at the opportunity if a certain someone offered.

“But we’re talking about you. And your little experiment with Bernie…?” Fleur left her question hanging, waiting for Serena bite.

Serena briefly considered denial and calling it a night but the idea of being able to talk to someone about her predicament was irresistible. “Not going well,” she answered with a sigh. “I really thought she was interested.”

Fleur raised an eyebrow innocently. “And she isn’t?”

“Not in me anyway.”

“And you’re convinced there’s someone’s in the picture?”

Serena nodded reluctantly. “Absolutely. Bernie’s been disappearing off at lunch times, all dressed up and coming back late looking dishevelled.” Fleur tut-tutted and Serena took it as encouragement to continue. “And the days she doesn’t go out, she spends giggling on the phone with whoever it is.” Serena stopped sharply and narrowed her eyes at Fleur. “It isn’t you, is it?”

Fleur held up her hands in a gesture of surrender. “As much as I would like to see what’s under those scrubs, no.” 

The memory of what Bernie’s skin felt like under her fingers as she massaged those toned muscles came tumbling back into Serena’s mind. An inappropriate rush of heat made her shift uncomfortably and she took a large gulp of her wine to try and stymie the thought.

Fleur chuckled and shook her head. “Oh, you’ve in a proper pickle, Serena. Didn’t your mother teach you not to play with matches?”

“You’re no help whatsoever. I’m going home.”

Fleur covered Serena’s hand stopping her. “At least you’re admitting you like her. First step to solving the problem.” 

“I can’t imagine what good it’ll do me. Bernie’s obviously enamoured with this,” Serena’s voice choked a little, “this person she’s involved with.”

“Perhaps she’s been meeting a friend?” Fleur suggested.

“Not likely, considering she came back with marks on her arm the other day.”

Fleur pursed her lips thoughtfully. “She’s joined a lunchtime BDSM club?”

Serena was torn between finding the image ludicrous and arousing. She shook her head and glared at Fleur. “I’m glad you’re taking this all seriously.”

Fleur lifted her glass and emptied it before replying. “I am and you should be too. Don’t tell me you’re giving up without a fight?”

“What are you suggesting?” Serena asked, open to any ideas at this point.

“You’ll need a date for the annual gala next week, won’t you? A bit of dancing and a lot of flirting goes a long way. If you haven’t lost your touch that is,” Fleur winked. 

Serena resisted the urge to dismiss Fleur’s words instantly but the notion of dressing up for Bernie and turn her charm on grew more attractive with each passing second.

Game on.

  
  
  



End file.
